Once, on a Midnight walk, I found
by agentmoppet
Summary: Summary: Quidditch League Season Four – Seeker (Wasps) – Prompt: You must choose to write either the word prompt, setting prompt or object prompt. Choose carefully though, as you captain and keeper must write the other two. I choose setting: A Common Room of your choice. Ravenclaw.


_**A/N:** Quidditch League Season Four – Seeker (Wasps) – Prompt: _

_You must choose to write either the word prompt, setting prompt or object prompt. Choose carefully though, as you captain and keeper must write the other two._

 _I choose setting: A Common Room of your choice. Ravenclaw._

* * *

Rose set her book down carefully on the coffee table in front of the fire and looked around the room; something was not right.

Firstly, there was no one here. That was obvious, and she had noticed it from the very second she had opened the common room door. It had filled her with a feeling of unease that she had hoped would be allayed by something simple like a surprise party or a prank.

But no one had yet jumped out at her, and when the eagle knocker had asked her its riddle – _a box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid_ ; honestly it wasn't even trying tonight – it had accepted her answer without any further riddles or mysteries. It had not warned her of any danger within, and she fully expected it to do so, if there was something of ill intent waiting for her inside the Ravenclaw common room.

Another person might think that the lack of an almost certain warning would mean there was no danger to be found; surely the guardian of the room would know. Such a person would be wrong. The lack of any evidence of a prank, or a surprise, or an obvious danger only deepened the sense of imminent threat that Rose felt deep in her bones.

Her eyes fell on a small rock that sat innocuously on the mantelpiece above the fire. She raised one eyebrow, recognising it for what it was, and knew that she had located the source of her unease. Now that she had discovered the origin, she could feel the disquiet emanating from the rock. It was small wonder that no students had wanted to stay in the common room late at night, alone, with such company, even if they did have no idea why they felt that way.

She walked forward and picked it up, turning it over as her fingers traced the familiar grooves and channels as they had done a dozen times before since she had brought it in from where she had discovered it on the forest floor, two nights ago.

Her lips twitched, remembering the moment she had found it at the edge of the forest, far from where it had fallen when Harry Potter had saved them all by walking blindly into something he did not understand.

She had known then that something was different, that the Resurrection Stone had been altered, and there was more to the tiny rock than even Gellert Grindelwald had dreamed; no matter its power, the rock had no sentience. It could not move on its own, and no forest creature would willingly carry it and deposit it where it could be find by wizards once again.

Something had changed, and as she had pondered the stone, she had come to the quick conclusion that she would succeed where the Saviour had failed, and discover exactly what use could be made of the Deathly Hallows.

Helena Ravenclaw had been easily persuaded. The destruction of the Horcrux had only eased her suffering the smallest amount, but the chance to apologise to her mother? To let the weight of regret lift even the slightest bit more? The temptation was too strong, and Rose had twirled the stone between her fingers in this very common room, and watched as the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower had dissolved into a fit of weeping that lasted well into the early hours of the morning.

The very fact that the stone had allowed her to call into existence _another_ person's dead was the second sign that the Resurrection Stone was more than it once had been.

She twirled the rock slowly. When it lay flat in her hand once more, she looked up to see the shimmering figure before her.

"You're new," she said, studying the ghost. His clothes were not of a fashion she recognised; he was far older than she could place. "And you're-" She paused. " _less_ than the others. Where is your substance?"

The ghost inclined his head. "My lady, you are correct. Although I have not been called to the Stone of Wisdom before, its power does not meet the legend."

Rose frowned. "You mean its power is diminished?"

Her eyebrows raised as the ghost before her laughed. She blinked slowly and waited.

"No, my lady." The ghost shook his head. "When the lady Ravenclaw passed on your message, that you were seeking answers, we did not have long to search. The Stone of Wisdom is well known to those of us who recall its binding."

Rose frowned. "This is the second time you've called it that."

The ghost held up his hand, a small sign of impatience. Rose laughed and took a seat by the fire.

"You're correct," she said. "We have all night. Please, go on."

"The Stone of Wisdom was not created by Death, not as your tales suggest, nor was it created by wizards. But it was bound. Its power was reduced, restricted to small, trite communications, and its sentience was muted."

"And now it has awoken?" Rose murmured, looking at the stone in wonder.

The ghost inclined its head and gave a small smile. "Now it has awoken, and it is no small wonder that it has chosen you," the ghost gestured to the room, "that it has chosen _here_."

Rose glanced around the room, half expecting to see the walls melt and change before her, to see the stone's power shifting its surroundings into something new, something fitting. But the deep blue walls remained still, and the portraits slumbered on. She shifted in her seat, leaning back into the cushions and studying the rock; it could no longer be called a Hallow.

"Why has it awoken now?" Rose asked. "What has changed?"

"Its bindings were broken."

Rose frowned. "It's bindings," she muttered to herself. She froze, her eyes snapping back to the ghost. "He snapped the wand." Her eyes widened, glinting in the light of the dying fire. She began to laugh. "What an idiot."

The ghost merely smiled.

Rose held up the rock so that the ghost's eyes fell upon it. "You're not afraid." It wasn't a question.

"I am dead," the ghost replied. "I have no need to fear what she chooses to do."

"She?"

"The Stone. You."

"And I now have access to her magic? I have access to all the wisdom of the dead?"

"We are at your beck and call. Your wish, your desire for knowledge, it is yours should you command it."

Rose smiled, her eyes still on the Stone of Wisdom. "Thank you. You're free to leave now."

The ghost hesitated. "If I may ask, what will you do now?"

Rose looked up, admiring the eager tenseness of the ghost's shoulders, the light in his eyes. She smirked.

"Only a fool leaps straight towards a goal." She slid the rock into her pocket. "And I am no fool."

* * *

 _This is an idea I had in a past MC, and I couldn't get past the idea of Rose being the one to take action on it._


End file.
